I’m sitting beside my inner child,
Watching a God spin a silver web.
A knowing warning shared between us,
Two sisters caught in metallic awe.
Your warning stirs something in me.
‘Don’t get too close.’
This silver web that scars.
Does such beauty hold such danger?
I want to get closer.
To this web. To this God.
I want to be one. I want to be it.
I want it. This purity.
I see your mystery reflected in your spinning silver web.
Spun by a God.

I see you now.
You complain. You tire. You fuss.
Remind me.
Gods have imperfections.